


Lay your weary head to rest

by CrazyBichoLady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Post-Episode: s14e20 Moriah, Wall Sex, Winchester (Supernatural) Man Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 14:33:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19014847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyBichoLady/pseuds/CrazyBichoLady
Summary: Cas wets his lips carefully aware of his heavy looking, there's caution there too."Sam" it's all he whispers, like he's afraid of raising his voice somehow, and Sam just wants to kiss him.So he does.





	Lay your weary head to rest

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> I came with gratuitous sastiel love (again) for your enjoyment (and mine, of course).  
> Tbh I actually wrote it before the first sastiel fic I posted here. 
> 
> Enjoy ;-)  
> Nat.

There's gunpowder on Sam's hands from the moment he lifted the gun off the ground and decided to kill God to save his son's life.

There's sweat, grime, dirt, and blood, too, all over his skin in different places, on his clothes, his hair, even the inside of his mouth.

His stomach churned, revolted, when his tongue swirled tickly through the mix on his teeth.

They made it out of that cementery, roughed up but fine otherwise thanks to Cas, who managed to pull them off just in time for the rest of the monsters to gather up and surrounder them once more, first barricade down. Castiel looked at him and gripped his arm and Sam got a hold of Dean with the sound of wings fluttering near his ear.

Then they were gone. Back at the bunker, landing on wobbly legs. Alive.

That's not to say that it didn't took a toll off the angel, of course. They all know he's not in the top-notch he once was, but he is still family, and Sam knows how much he gives for them. None of them are what they were back in the days anyway.

They all looked at each other, panting heavily with more than exertion. The heavy weight of their failures. It was Dean the first one to break that misery contest; he went straight for the licor cabinet, for the strongest stuff, and not even determined to share though. He pulled some bottle off and stumbled with his head low throughout the room, both him and Cas following him with sad stares until he disappeared along the corridor to his room.

Sam felt like doing the same. He really did. They didn't just unleashed a world of Hell on Earth by killing God ( _he_ killed God for fuckssake!), he couldn't even save Jack by doing that. It was all for nothing. It was too late. He was always too late.

The tell tale of tears begins to sting on his tired eyes, so he follows the same path his brother initiated, nobody needs to watch his sorrowful ass cry. He takes a bottle of JD and goes downstairs instead, to the garage, to get himself locked inside some old car and drink himself to rest. For a while at least. It was a great plan. Anything but stand there beside Cas and this vault they call home.

  
He hears Castiel calling after him but he doesn't want to face him. Not right now.  
He wants to bury his head on the sand. Bury himself until everything went back the way it was before God, before Lucifer, before everything.

  
He wants to get Jack back.  
He wants his son to be alive.

  
They couldn't even bring his body back. It's there. Lying on the dirt.

  
Alone.  
Surrounded by the dead.

  
He could picture Jack's smile just lurking behind his eyes, haunting him, because he couldn't save him in the end, he couldn't help him, he left him there -

  
Sam jolted when his foot missed the last step, his heart lapped instantly to his mouth while he fell. The bottle was safe at least. He doesn't feel at thing, not even the pounding of his heart through his ears, not the panting coming off his lips, not the scratching of the cement floor on his hands when he landed, not even the hands that lifted him off the floor and the voice calling him, calling his name urgently, the anguish on Castiel's face when he takes his own face on his smaller hands, wet blue eyes like crashing waves.

  
"Sam! Are you okay?" he said still holding him, and Sam wants to laugh at his face, he wants to push him off and yell at him because, what kind of question is that?. But he says and does nothing. Like he always does nowadays.

Cas must have read all of that on him anyway because he lowers his hands, but doesn't back off. Cas never backs off of a fight. And Sam always admired that of the guy.

  
Finally, he sighs, heavily, and lowers his face, looks around without looking, wets his lips, and peers at him from thick eyelashes.  
Sam watches all of his movements for a while. 

  
Then he snorts without humor, gets sideways and lifts the bottle uncapped on his way down here, drinks a long pull, then another, and another until Cas seems to snap and pulls the bottle abruptly out of his hand, steps back when he tries to take it back with a menacing groan, keeping it out of reach, says _this wasn't your fault Sam, you can't do this to yourself, it wouldn't solve anything_ , but he really doesn't care, doesn't want to hear it, it's crap, it's pointless.

Then there's no more room for Cas and the bottle to run off. Cas's back hits the wall, and his hands lowers in an effort to keep the licor away from him, but Sam is taller and his hand reaches for it without much effort. Cas doesn't let up, and their fingers touch. A trill of something Sam doesn't want to inspect runs through him at the contact.

  
They are both panting by now, too close, their faces so close their breaths mingle in the middle.  
Cas is staring at him with a mixture of confusion and.. Well, arousal.  
Sam looks at his eyes and his lips, doesn't know what he want to look more. Cas's lips look just too tempting right now.

  
Cas wets his lips carefully aware of his heavy looking, there's caution there too.  
"Sam" it's all he whispers, like he's afraid of raising his voice somehow, and Sam just wants to kiss him.  
So he does.

When his lips touch Cas pillowy, soft ones, it feels like a dike has been cracked irreparably, all the water pouring off on that kiss, all the teeth, the pressure. He wants to consume him. He doesn't want to think.

  
The bottle shatters when they both let go of it to grab at each other, Cas'arms coming up to circle his neck tightly, grabbing on for dear life, while Sam takes the offered opportunity to lift him off the ground by his ass, Cas's legs automatically wrapping around his waist and locking there like he wouldn't let go even if his life depended of it.

  
Their hips start to move by instinct at first, they manage a good ritm with every thrust, they are both so damn hard all Sam wants is to bury himself so deep inside Cas he wouldn't remember his own name the next day. 

  
Cas breaks the kiss to pant " _do it_ " and he looks _feverish_ , deliciously so. His face is hot pink, his lips swollen almost red like they were smeared with lipstick, his eyes bright blue, and Sam can't even be mad that he read his thoughts.

Cas smiles sheppish at him. The feathery little shit.

  
"I- I don't" but Sam can't finish the sentence because he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to fuck him? Hell, he really wants to. He wants to pound him on this wall so hard the entire building would shake. He doesn't think they should? He doesn't want to _think_ at all.

  
Again, Cas reads him, and he _huffs_ at him, disentangles one arm, gets a hand on a pocket on his trench and places a little pack of.. It's lube. He places a pack of lube on Sam's right hand. Sam stares at it, and his eyes a bit crossed because of the quarter bottle of whiskey he managed to drink by himself before.

Cas is watching him watch him. He looks a bit awkward, a bit shy. He clears his throat  
"I.. I got it from a- um, a convenient store down the road" he says, raspy voice going down. " I thought convenient to have it handy.. I just in case.. " he peers at him below his long lashes and shrugs as making the statement light, totally natural and not at all a mind blow for Sam. Of course he does.

  
Yeah the whiskey has nothing to do with the dumb face he's sporting right now. Because their angel friend, who doesn't even go to bars once in a while like Dean, or (less frequently, tho) even himself does.. Is always ready to go.  
Here he is, just casually pulling some lube off his pocket like it's no big deal. Like it doesn't makes Sam vision go fuzzy around his eyes, the blood running hot on his ears. He's dazed because of Cas.

His angel friend clears his troath awkwardly and when Sam lifts his eyes at him he's blushing a cute strong pink shade.  
"Just.. you know.." he mumbles while taking the pack back with a quick jerk and opening it whith his teeth efficiently and pouring some on Sam's now empty hand. Sam's libido kicks back on action at the display, and they're both still very much hard despite the minute stop.

  
Cas is opening his pants and lowering them to give room to Sam's hand, and the first touch to his hole send shivers to both of them, their cocks twitching at once.  
Sam groans when his first finger breaches Cas slowly, and Cas moans pitifully. He sounds a bit at disconfort, but he never ask for Sam to stop, he even rocks his hips down a bit.

They are both eager, and things move quickly after that with Cas insistent rocking of his hips on three of Sam's fingers,moaning and flushing darker and darker and practically mewling, driving Sam mad with want, so the moment he nearly rips his pants to get his dick out, withdraws his fingers and places the head of his aching lubed cock on Cas swollen hole, it feels like heaven.

They let an unison groan when the head of Sam's dick pushes (a bit difficulty at first despite the prep because, well, he's bit of a ticker guy), Cas whimpers but tightens his body around him, Sam holding him harder too, molding him to the wall because he's shaking, they both are, and this feels like too much, like too little, the air tick with their cobined arousal and panting. 

Sam is buried at the hill already, slowly but surely, and Cas is a whimpering mess of an angel, he sounds so vulnerable like Sam has never see him before.

He's gulping air on Sam's ear and it should gross him out but it doesn't. Makes him want to _nail him_. It awakens a primal need in him, to take and posses. But he waits for Cas to make the first move, and so he does, tentative swirl of his hips down on Sam, circling himself and punching a huffing _Cas_ out of him.  
" _Sam_ " comes the breathy answer over Sam's lips and something snaps on Sam with that, makes him plunge his tongue on Castiel as well as his dick inside him, makes his hips snap once, twice, three times in a row hard, makes Cas tighten around him, makes him groan long and needy with that chalked tone of his, the one that has Sam desperate too to do nasty things to him.

Cas dick is leaking furiously too, trapped between their sweaty clothed bodies, and when he makes an attempt to grabe it Sam actually _growls_. He has never grolew at someone before in sex, he doesn't recall, but Cas seems to go with it- he bites his bottom lip hard and returns his arm around him again. His eyes are slited but Sam can see how sharp they get when he gets possessive like this. He's flustered, they both are, there's steam coming of of them Sam swears, it feels like they are burning together and he hasn't feel like this in a long time. 

"Sam, I- I need--hnng" Cas is babbling, trashing his head sideways on the wall, his neck a perfect bow that Sam wants to _bite_ , wants to mark, and at that thought Cas opens his eyes and he looks _feral_. _Like a bitch in heat_ comes the weird unbidden thought, and he would feel embarrassed at himself for it if he had more brain cells to spear with his attention on nailing Cas on the wall, but it turns out that his partner doesn't mind at all. Cas bares his neck more in a clear dare. _Do it. Mark me._

So he wets his lips and goes for it, Sam clamps his mouth on Cas's feverish neck and sinks his teeth in, enough to break skin. Cas wails. He wails and trashes and pushes down full force on Sam's dick, and comes. Just like that.

The extra stimulus of Cas's spasmic ass on his trobbing cock is enough to get Sam coming too. He buries himself deep and comes and comes and comes.

He comes for and eternity it seems.  
When he gets back to himself, they are both panting still, his legs feel really weak but he manages to hold them both.  
Cas is smiling on his neck, still holding onto him like an octopus, but a tired one at least.

"That was.." but he doesn't finish his mumbled sentence, and Sam doesn't complete it either.

He's tired and sated like he hasn't been in a long time. It feels great.

He feels that floaty-post-sex kind of way and suddenly he doesn't want to lose this. He doesn't want to get back to reality.  
He doesn't want to remember.

  
Sam wraps his arms around Cas tightly and buries his face on his neck, breaths him in and in and in and doesn't think at anything at all for a while.

*

 


End file.
